


How Do You Spell Forever?

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha!Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, Best Friends, Beta!Sam, F/M, Family, First Time, Fluff, Growing Up, Knotting, Romance, Sex, Smut, Underage - Freeform, Virginity, cuteness, omega!reader, timelapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-08 21:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12873642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: He was her best friend and she was his. Sharing milestones, almost living in each other’s pockets… until they are pulled apart. Twenty years later, as two very different people, they reunite… does she still love him like he does her? AU - artistic license and all.





	1. Chapter 1

**_1985_ **

The only sounds in the room were the scribbling of crayons on the crappy paper Bobby had provided, but both children were quiet for now. At age six, Dean and Y/N were the best of friends, and when their fathers teamed up on a hunt, Bobby invariably took on the babysitting if Pastor Jim wasn’t available.

This time around, baby Sam had a cold. He was only two, and had spent most of the weekend asleep in his playpen, griping when he was hungry but generally being quiet. He was a very good baby - he had to be, with the life he was growing up in.

“Your picture is really good,” Dean whispered, leaning over to Y/N, who beamed. “Is that you?” His chubby fingers prodded at the wax crayon on the paper, and Y/N nodded brightly.

“And that’s me,” she announced.

“What does that say?” the other child questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“It says “ best friends forever”,” Y/N explained, and Dean frowned, shaking his head.

“It’s spelled wrong.”

“No it’s not.”

Bobby sighed, looking up from his desk, seeing the start of a friendly war between the two six year olds. He stood, wandering over and making his presence known. “That’s some real good artwork there, Y/N,” he praised and Dean snatched the picture.

“How do you spell forever, Uncle Bobby?” the little boy asked, as Y/N pouted, trying to snatch her picture back. “I don’t think this is right.”

Y/N’s fingers stretched outward as Dean moved the picture out of her reach. She was smaller than him, but no less feisty, and Bobby could definitely sense a punch coming the other child’s way. “Dee, gimme!” Bobby took the picture, inspecting it carefully. Y/N had drawn two little figures, one with a pink dress and the other in what looked like blue jeans and a little plaid shirt. They were remarkably accurate, down to the mix of green and brown that made up Dean Winchester’s eyes.

“You spelled “friend” wrong,” Bobby offered quietly, handing the picture back to Y/N, who took it gratefully. “It’s F-R-I-E-N-D, not F-W-I-N-D.” The little girl poked her tongue out at Dean, who rolled his eyes. “But you spelled “forever” exactly right.”

“See?” Y/N scolded, nudging Dean with her elbow. “I did spell it right.” She bent over, scribbling a correction of the word “friend”, before continuing with the picture. Bobby returned to his desk, still watching the both of them. Five minutes later, when she was done, Y/N sat up straight and thrust the picture at Dean. “I drew it for you anyway. Just had to add the ‘pala.”

Dean looked down at the complete drawing, his facial expression a little unsteady as he accepted the gift, running his fingers over the crayon depiction of himself and Y/N. “Thank you. We are gonna be best friends forever, huh?”

Y/N nodded, smiling at him, before pulling him into a hug. Bobby watched, unable to deny the twisting in his heart at the two innocent little children. The life ahead of them was going to be hard, and it tore him apart knowing they were involved in it.

Maybe… maybe it wasn’t too late to convince John and Mark that the life wasn’t the place for children.

*****

**_1989_ **

“Another school,” Y/N sighed, dragging her heels as she climbed out of the car, Dean behind her. Sam was already in class, on a different part of campus with the fifth graders. “I’m so sick of this.”

“It’s only another couple of weeks, then the semester is over,” Dean grumbled, catching up to her, his book bag banging against his thigh. It was a ratty old thing that he’d been carting around for years, whereas Y/N had saved her meager allowance to buy a nice bag.

Not that it mattered when she was failing classes because of her dad’s profession.

“We just gotta get through until we’re sixteen,” he added, nudging her. “Then we can leave. Do what we want.”

“ _You_  want to be a hunter like your dad,” Y/N hissed, slowing her pace as they approached the school entrance behind the crowds of other children. “I want to be a doctor. Or a vet.” She paused, pulling her back up onto her shoulder from where it had slipped. “I don’t want to fight monsters.”

Dean sighed, shaking his head. “My dad’s a superhero. Your dad too.”

“They’re never around.”

“They can’t help that.”

She knew they could, but she also knew it was pointless arguing with Dean’s hero worship of his father. There was no denying they did good in the world, but all Y/N saw was her life in motels, being moved between five schools a year, and not being able to set down roots anywhere. Beyond Sam and Dean, she had no other friends.

The bell rang, and Dean slipped his hand into hers. “I’m not gonna leave you, you know that.” She nodded, but her heart felt heavy.

How long could he keep that promise?

*****

**_1991_ **

The clock ticked over to twelve, and outside the motel room, the snow fell thick and heavy on the ground. “Merry Christmas,” Dean whispered, rolling over in the queen sized bed to face her, and Y/N smiled. “It’s after midnight.”

“Is Sam asleep?” she asked, and he nodded, glancing over to the opposite bed where eight year old Sam slumbered. “You wanna watch it?” Dean grinned, sitting up and climbing out of the covers. His bare feet padded on the floor as he grabbed his duffel bag from underneath the bed. “I hope it’s good.”

“Better be,” Dean replied, holding the pilfered video tape aloft. “Dad would kill me if he knew I stole this.” He took the tape out of the case, kneeling in front of the television and turning it on, pressing the tape into the VCR. The screen flickered to life, and Y/N joined him on the floor, bringing the covers with her so she could build a sort of nest with him.

They were snuggled down as the ad came on, and Dean smiled, taking her hand under the cover. Y/N pressed in close, resting her head on his shoulder. “This is so bad,” she whispered. “It’s rated R.”

“James at school said it was really good,” Dean replied. “Lots of blood and fighting. Don’t worry, I’ll be here, so you won’t get scared.” Y/N shot him a dirty look and he laughed.

“I’m not the one who cried over a mouse in his shoe the other day,” she pointed out. “You’re the scaredy cat here, Dean Winchester.”

“Nah,” he insisted, sounding petulant. “I’m gonna be a big bad Alpha, like my dad.” She rolled her eyes, relaxing into him again. It was an argument they had time and time again, but it was only ever playful. Y/N knew Dean would be an Alpha, just like she knew that she’d be an Omega. “Come on, let’s watch the movie.”

*****

**_1994_ **

The silence in the car was deafening, and Y/N curled towards the window, closing her eyes tightly. Her father was angry, angrier than he’d been in a long time; at her anyway. And she knew she deserved it.

“You gonna ignore me all morning?” he asked, not facing her, keeping his eyes on the road. Y/N didn’t answer, confirming his suspicions. “You should have told me.”

“Told you what?” she snapped, sitting up straight. “That I’m an Omega? That I’m a fucking magnet for trouble?” She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “I had it covered. You busted in and made a scene.”

“I was protecting you -” her father argued, but Y/N angry shook her head.

“No, you were being an ass. I could have dealt with that ghost, but instead, we got run out of town by the cops. I’m sixteen, Dad! I’m too young for a goddamn warrant for grave robbing!” Sinking back into her seat, she wiped away the angry tears stinging her eyes. “You need to let me handle my own shit.”

Her dad sighed, flexing his hands around the wheel. “You’ve been so difficult lately. I thought… I thought you were going to run away.”

She blinked in confusion, staring at him as he kept his eyes on the road. “Run away where?”

“Back to Dean,” Mark replied, his expression softening. “You’ve been off ever since we left last month. I know you don’t like being separated from him but -”

“It’s got nothing to do with Dean,” she snarled, lying right to his face. In truth, she was pissed at Dean most of all. Since he’d popped his knot, the cocky teenaged Alpha had been meeting up with girls left, right and center. When Y/N had presented as Omega, Dean had almost immediately dropped her like a stone. “Dean is an asshole. I wouldn’t run off to him.”

Her father hummed, obviously not believing her. “I spoke to John. Him and the boys are over in Minnesota. He needs help with a werewolf pack.” There was no reaction from the young Omega, and he watched her carefully for a few seconds. “You’re okay with meeting them?”

“I don’t care,” she shrugged, turning her attention away again. Really, she didn’t care. Didn’t care about Dean Winchester, didn’t care about his stupid Alpha-ness, didn’t care about his face or his stupid everything. Nope. Not one bit.

“Okay,” Mark muttered, smiling to himself as he turned his gaze back to the road. “I guess you don’t care.”

*****

**_1995_ **

Everything was too hot and sticky, and she couldn’t sleep. A cold shower hadn’t helped in the slightest, and with both the “responsible” adults gone on a hunt, Y/N didn’t know what to do. She’d cried off school this morning, hiding in her bed as Sam and Dean bolted out the door.

When the motel door opened, and footsteps entered, she sat up, shakily aiming a gun at the intruder. She realized quickly that it was Dean, and he held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, hey… it’s me.” The gun lowered and Y/N gasped with the pain. “Shit, you don’t look so good.”

“It hurts,” she choked, and Dean frowned, dropping his jacket onto the floor by the door and locking it. “Dee, it hurts really bad.”

He shushed her, drawing closer, before his entire frame went still, and he groaned. “Y/N… it’s not… it’s not the flu.” Her bleary eyes focused on him with confusion, and he gave her a mirthless grin. “You’re in heat.” A beat passed, before Y/N shook her head slowly, denying the truth in front of her. “Sweetheart, I can fucking  _smell_  you. You’re making my mouth water.” He came closer, kneeling on the bed. “I can help you.”

“No!” Her face twisted in anger. “I’m not gonna be a notch on your bedpost, Dean.”

Dean baulked, having the decency to look ashamed. “I’ve never…” Was he embarrassed? “Not all the way,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. Y/N watched him curiously, her eyes displaying her disbelief. “Trust me, there’s only ever been you, Y/N.”

“You’re just saying that to get in my pants,” she whispered. “Dean, I’m not… I can do this without…  _that_. We don’t need to.”

“It’s your first heat,” he pointed out. “It’s gonna get worse.”

Y/N sighed, pulling the covers. “Just lay with me? It doesn’t seem so bad now…” She was lying, and he knew it, but he slid between the covers anyway, shedding just his jeans and boots before pulling her into his hold. “This sucks,” she grumbled. “When are our dads back?”

“Not for another two weeks,” Dean replied, kissing her temple. “I’m sure you’re gonna be fine, Y/N. Get some sleep. Sam’s not back for another few hours.” She nodded, letting her eyes fall shut. It seemed like only moments had passed before she opened them again, finding Dean slumbering next to her. Shifting a little, she knocked his erection with her hand, a blush staining her cheeks when she realized what she’d done.

He was still asleep, and Y/N couldn’t help but look at the impressive tent in his boxers. She was unbearably aroused, and just the sight of his cock through the fabric was making her wet. Dean was right of course - she was in heat, and the only thing she wanted was an Alpha knot. And there was one right in front of her…

Reaching out with a shaking hand, she ran one fingertip along the outline of his cock, and it jumped at the motion. A little wet spot appeared on the material stretched tight across his tip, and Dean moaned, stirring a little. Boldness overtook her, and Y/N cupped him fully, rewarded with his hips slanting upwards as he sought more friction.

“Y/N…” he whimpered, and she froze, sure he was still asleep. Was he dreaming of her? “Fuck, baby, want you so bad -”

Yeah, he was dreaming about her.

A smirk coated her lips as she eased his boxers down, wondering how he was managing to sleep like the dead when she was touching him like this. His cock sprang free, precum leaking from the tip, and Y/N couldn’t stop herself - she encircled him with her fingers and bent down, lapping at the clear fluid gathering there.

Dean jolted awake with a loud groan, and she sprang back, feeling guilty as hell about what she’d done. “Y/N?”

“I’m sorry, I… I just…” she gasped down breaths of air, feeling the heat come back into her skin, her stomach churning and body humming for more of him. “I couldn’t stop myself and you were…” He was staring at her, and she couldn’t make out his expression. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, reaching out to touch her hand. Slowly, he guided it back to his cock, and Y/N sucked in a lungful of air as she touched him again. “You want this, Omega?” The deep rumble of his voice made her dizzy, and she moved back closer to him, confidence blooming in her actions. Dean’s eyes were dark with lust, and he groaned as she started to move her hand.

“Did you mean what you said?” Y/N asked, almost unable to meet his eyes as she jerked him off, using her thumb to spread the precum from his tip down his length. “About the other girls?”

“I did,” Dean answered, honestly, staring at her. “I’ve never slept with anyone. Never gone all the way.” His eyes rolled back a little as her fingers tightened around him, caressing the thick knot at the base of his cock. “It’s always been you, Y/N.”

“Alpha,” she whispered, releasing him and climbing into his lap, where he held her close.

Neither of them knew exactly what they were doing, but Dean had watched enough porn to have the basic gist. All Y/N knew was that she felt empty, that she needed something from Dean. His fingers sought out her soaked pussy underneath her sleep shorts, and she whined loudly as he touched her for the first time. “You’re so wet,” he commented, using his other hand to cup the back of her head, bringing her down for a deep kiss as he sunk one finger inside her to the knuckle.

The sound she made was muffled by his mouth, but when she pulled away, she only said one thing: “More.”

And Dean provided. He added a second finger, fucking her slowly until he could feel her tightening around him. Slick coated his fingers and his hand, covering her thighs, and the scent of her overwhelmed him. His cock twitched, pressed underneath her leg, and he couldn’t stop the deep, guttural sound that he made.

“Want you so much,” he growled, using his thumb to tease her clit, and Y/N bucked, crying out at the intense pleasure. “Omega…” A high pitched whine left her as he drew his fingers away, pulling her sleep shorts out of the way to position her over his cock. The heat between them was almost palpable, and neither were entirely aware of their actions, function on pure primal instinct. Y/N made the first move as his cock brushed her entrance, sinking down onto him, greedy for his Alpha knot.

Dean cursed loudly, clutching her against him as she didn’t even leave him time to adjust to her tightness, to the heat of her velvet skin wrapped around his dick. His knot was already swelling, but Y/N was intent on getting what she wanted. “Dean, I’m close, I wanna…”

He growled, dragging her down hard, and forcing the entire length of his cock into her soaked cunt, and she screamed, his knot fully seated inside her. Within seconds, Dean was cumming too, clinging to her as he rode it out. The urge to bite her was overwhelming, but he held back, burying his face in her breasts.

Both of them were panting heavily as they remained wrapped around each other. Using her hands to push herself upright, Y/N looked at Dean with reddened cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, knowing she couldn’t pull away. “I just… it was so bad and you were there and -”

“I’m not,” Dean interrupted her, reaching up to stroke her face. “Not sorry at all. You’re my best friend, Y/N.” His thumb caressed over her cheek, and she stared at him. The words were on the tip of his tongue - how he’d always loved her, how he’d dreamed they’d be together, dreamed of this exact moment - but the door to the motel room opened, and beat him to it.

With a shriek, Y/N was dragging the covers over them, as light coated the bed, and Dean scowled at the intrusion. He was about to yell at whoever it was to leave, thinking it was most likely Sam, when his dad’s towering form appeared in the doorway, closely followed by Y/N’s father.

“Shit,” he groaned, unable to move from where the Omega was huddled against him.

“What the fuck?” John snarled, allowing Mark to move past him. “What the hell is going on?” Both Alpha males scented the air, taking less than a second to come to the conclusion of what had happened. “Dean, tell me you didn’t -”

“Y/N!” Mark snapped, marching towards the bed, reaching out to grab his daughter’s arm.

“Dad, don’t!” you cried, keeping a tight hold on Dean. “I can’t move!”

“I don’t wanna know,” John muttered, throwing his hands up.

Y/N’s dad stared at them in horror, before shaking his head. “Twenty minutes. Get cleaned up, and in the car.”

“Wait,” Y/N started, looking up at him in fear. “What?”

“We’re leaving.”

“No, Dad, you can’t -”

“You’re seventeen!” he ground out. “You’re too young for this. And Dean…” Disappointment filled his tone. “I expected better of you.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to grab her father’s arm. “Dad, it wasn’t his fault, it was -”

“Don’t wanna hear it,” Mark cut her off, holding up a hand. “Just get yourself sorted.” He stormed out, snarling curse words underneath his breath, and Y/N clung to Dean, who was frozen in shock.

“Dean, I don’t wanna go…” she sobbed, her hands on his shoulders, and he pulled her close, cradling her in his arms as she sobbed. “He’s gonna separate us. He’s gonna…” Dean shushed her, rubbing her back, grunting when his body withdrew from hers. Easing her out of his lap wasn’t difficult, and he tilted her chin to look her in the eye. “Dean…”

It was unclear what he was thinking as he looked at her, cupping her face, his thumb absently stroking her skin. “You should go,” he said, his voice quiet, and Y/N felt a lead weight drop into her stomach. “Y/N, we’re…”

“You said we’d run away together,” she recalled, tears brimming in her eyes. “When we were kids -”

“Exactly,” he pointed out. “We were kids. We knew nothing. Y/N, I’m not your Alpha. I’m not -” Her hiccuped sob stopped him, and he frowned. “Y/N, you need to -”

“I know what I need,” she hissed, pushing away from him harshly. Climbing from the bed, she dragged on her pants and t-shirt, grabbing her duffel bag as Dean watched, unsure what to do. With a glance at him, she paused, anger twisting her face. “And it’s not you.”

The parting shot was followed by the door slamming, leaving the young Alpha alone with his thoughts and the consequences of what they’d done.

*****

**_1999_ **

It was raining heavily, and Y/N sat by the window, watching the storm pass by. Three months of being on her own, trying to find a way to survive in a country not her own.

Her dad had died in a confrontation with a Wendigo in the Lake District. Moving to the UK had been his idea, and for a few years, everything had gone smoothly. There was no mention of what had happened back in the States, and Y/N didn’t want to talk about it. Her father’s disappointment left a bitter taste in her mouth, and Dean’s reaction only cemented her belief that he’d only ever seen her as a friend.

Heats came and went, and she managed them alone. When her dad passed, she struggled, withdrawing from hunting for the most part, drifting from town to town on the kindness of strangers.

It wasn’t surprising when she was picked up by a group familiar with the hunting world, who had decided to put her skills to good use.

And that was where she was now. The house on the outskirts of London was extensive, and her hosts were very gracious. She’d happily accepted their help, the offering of somewhere to stay, food and medication to manage her Omega status. All they asked, was for her father’s journal, which was of no use to her anyway.

“Hello, Y/N.” She looked up, giving her guest a brief smile. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine, Arthur,” Y/N replied, sighing. “Just feelin’ a little out of sorts.”

Arthur smiled, sitting down next to her. He was a handsome young man, a couple of years older than her, and far more stiff upper lip, but he was friendly and kind. He’d been assigned as a handler of sorts, making sure she had everything she needed, and becoming her back up on the small hunts she’d done thus far.

“We’ve been given a case to look into. Nothing much, possibly a rugaru, but we need to do some legwork. Are you interested?”

Y/N nodded, sitting up straight. “I could use a bit of violence.”

“Now, now,” Arthur chided, although there was laughter in his voice. “That’s not how we do things in the Men Of Letters, Y/N.”

*****

**_2007_ **

Blood coated her hands as she fought, all too aware of the activity behind her in the background. A pack of shifters had decided that London was the best kind of playground, and she was currently trying to kill one of them with a very small silver knife, all that was left from her weapons after she’d been caught.

Arthur was behind her, a significantly larger weapon in his hands as he tried to cut a path in her direction. “Y/N!”

She scowled, jamming the knife into the shifter’s jugular, and he gurgled, dropping like a stone, but not before he clawed a gash down her shoulder blade. A scream left her, and she went down on one knee, just as Arthur got through the three shifters holding him back. He was at her side, lifting her into his arms and carrying her back towards his car, applying pressure to the wound.

“Hold on,” he muttered, but she was almost unconscious as he started the engine, one hand reaching over the front seats to keep her upright as he drove like a lunatic back to the Men Of Letters headquarters.

She was out cold for three hours, and when she came around, Arthur was nowhere to be found. Doctor Hess sat at her bedside, the woman’s twisted bulldog face making Y/N frown.

“Where’s Arthur?” she asked, sitting up, wincing at the pain in her shoulder.

“He’s been reassigned,” Hess replied, coldly. “It’s been decided that Ketch should undergo further training. I understand you have worked together for a long time -”

“Seven years,” Y/N interrupted, and Hess’ eyes narrowed. It was well known that Y/N didn’t trust most of the Men Of Letters - but she trusted Arthur Ketch. Him being sent away did not bode well. “Why now?”

Hess stood up, walking around the bed to pick up a manilla folder on the table at the end. “We’ve received reports of growing supernatural problems in the United States. Centered around a certain pair of brothers that we believe you may have had associations with.” She dropped the file onto the bed, raising an eyebrow. “The Winchesters.”

Y/N’s chest flushed with cold as she remembered her former childhood friends. “Haven’t seen them since I was a child. I’ve been in England for over a decade. You know that.” The doctor huffed, standing stiffly at the end of the bed. “Doctor Hess, I’d like to know why you’re separating me from the only person I trust. I’ve done all you asked, even some things I didn’t agree with -”

“And yet, the fact remains, you are an unmated Omega, nearly thirty years old, who is not a member of this organization. You are an associate, a tool, a hunter that is quickly outliving her purpose.” Rage turned Y/N’s cheeks red, and she fixed an icy glare on the older woman. “You need to find a way to make yourself useful.”

“What are you suggesting?” Y/N asked, unsure of the woman’s motives.

Hess’ smile was cruel and sent a chill into Y/N’s heart. “You’ll see, my dear.”


	2. Chapter 2

**_2016_ **

JFK airport came into view, and Y/N felt apprehension pool in her stomach. Over twenty years away from the United States, and now, she was coming home. Not that she’d ever had a proper home. Life on the road left her with no roots, and now, she had to go back and face the past she’d left behind.

The plane landed with a bump, and Y/N stepped off with the other passengers, making her way through customs. Outside the airport, a stiff looking gentleman stood with a board, her name clearly displayed and she approached him, greeting him quietly.

Driving on the other side of the road again was a little jarring, and Y/N spent the journey in silence. Halfway to the Men Of Letters safehouse on the outskirts of the city, her phone rang and she answered it, replying to the questions from Lady Bevell in a monotone voice.

“We’ll be arriving in thirty minutes,” she said, and Lady Bevell acknowledged her accordingly. Hanging up, Y/N sighed, looking out of the window blankly.

The other woman was waiting on the steps of the house as they pulled up, and Y/N climbed out of the car, retrieving her bag before walking up to meet Toni. The blonde smiled, offering her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, and Y/N gave her a stoic grin, no emotion in her eyes. “You understand the mission perimeters?”

“Yes,” Y/N replied, remaining stiff. It was how she’d been trained, and her responses were programmed. “Have you already engaged the Winchesters.”

There was a funny look on Toni’s face, but Y/N paid it no mind. “I have. They are… difficult. I understand you’ve had experience with them?” Her only answer was a shrug, and Toni raised an eyebrow. “Yes, well… shall we?” She gestured to the front door of the property, and Y/N moved past her, keeping hold of her suitcase as she stepped into the house. “Your quarters are this way, and the kitchen is down there,” Toni explained, pointing in the direction of the back of the house. “If you need anything, Jonathan will be on hand to provide it.” As if on cue, an older gentleman appeared, giving Y/N a brief nod before disappearing off again. “I’ll leave you to get settled in. I have a debriefing to deal with.”

Y/N watched her go, before ascending the stairs in the direction Toni had pointed, finding the vacant room that was her home for the time being. Without unpacked, she made her way to the bed, and laid down, quickly falling asleep from the jet lag.

*****

The next day, another member of the Men Of Letters arrived. Y/N knew him, in passing anyway, and he greeted her warmly. Mick Davies, was one of the less creepy members of the society, and he was friendly enough. Despite being an Alpha, he was quite level headed, and followed orders to the end.

Y/N no longer recognized her Omega traits. Under the Men of Letters’ guidance, she’d trained herself to surpass the heats, with the help of the medication they had given her. She trained constantly, and carried out missions as directed. If anyone asked her why, not that they did, she responded with the standard line of “it’s my duty”.

She’d stopped questioning it a long time ago.

Doctor Hess had molded her into the perfect weapon. She was lethal in a fight, and had single handedly destroyed more monsters than any recorded member. But the woman maintained that she was not one of them; she was a tool and Y/N knew it.

It could have been worse.

“You’re to drive down to Kansas with Davies,” Toni was instructing, as Y/N stood in her office, her back ramrod straight. She knew that whatever Toni said came from Hess, and that it was an order not to be denied. Mick eyed her in a funny manner, but Y/N ignored him, focusing on the other woman. “Present yourself to the Winchesters. They will trust you. Our orders are to assimilate the American hunters, and if they don’t join up…” The smile on Lady Bevell’s face was chilling. “Then they are to be terminated.”

Something inside Y/N jolted at the thought of killing hunters, but she quickly overcame it, giving Toni a sharp nod.

“Do you want to drive?” Mick asked, and Y/N glanced at him. “I don’t mind -”

“I’ll drive,” she said tersely, directing her attention to Toni. “Check ins?”

“Every twelve hours,” Toni replied. “You know your assignment, Y/N. Don’t mess it up.” The warning seemed to be more for Mick than her, but Y/N took it on board anyway. She turned away, with Mick behind her, the smaller man frowning at her complacent obedience.

He attempted conversation twice in the first hour of the drive, but Y/N remained focused on the road. When he realized that small talk wasn’t an option, he turned his attention to researching, and finally, listening to podcasts on his phone. Y/N didn’t say anything about his activities, only addressing him when she intended to stop for gas or a bathroom break.

When they crossed over the boundary into Kansas, passing the city limits of Kansas City, a memory came to her.

_ “Higher!” she screamed, giggling as Dean’s little fingers grabbed the chains of the swing and pushed her underdog style. A high pitched squeal accompanied her joy, just as the black Impala pulled up outside the park. “Dad’s here,” Y/N said, pouting at the end of her fun. _

_ “We gots to go,” Dean groaned, standing by her side as she remained sat on the swing. “Do you think Dad will let us come back?” Sammy gurgled in his stroller, a few feet away from them - he was drooling over an old Action Man Dean had given him to keep quiet. _

_ “Maybe. It’s my birthday soon,” Y/N replied, excitedly. “Six is a big number, so maybe we can play more?” _

_ “Come on, kids!” John called, climbing out of the car in his suit, beckoning to them. Y/N hopped off the swing, reaching up to push Sammy’s stroller across the grass. Mark got out of the passenger side, opening the door for the children, helping fasten Sam into the back as he continued to chew on the toy. _

_ “Daddy, can we go to the park tomorrow?” Y/N asked, big, pleading eyes focused on her father. He grimaced, glancing at John. _

_ “We’ll have to see,” he replied, getting back into the car as Y/N looked at Dean. The other child nudged her with his elbow, cuddling into her. _

_ “Don’t worry, Y/N. When we’re big, we can go to the park whenever we want.” _

“Are you paying attention to the road?” Mick asked, jolting her out of the memory, and she scowled at him. “Sorry. Seemed like you were daydreaming.” She didn’t reply, keeping her eyes on the road. A gas station came up ahead and she pulled in, not speaking a word as she climbed out and filled the tank. “We’re about three hundred miles out. I’m going to check in with Lady Bevell. Did you want to stop for the night?”

“No,” Y/N replied curtly.

Mick made a face, raising his eyebrows as he turned away. “Okay then.” She ignored him, filling up the tank of the car, before pulling out her phone and checking it. There was one unread message, from Ketch.

_ Titus 1:15. _

Almost immediately, she went still, the orders she’d been giving filtering slowly through. Lady Bevell and Mick were instructed to assimilate or terminate. Y/N only had one set of orders.  _ Terminate. _ The Winchesters were too dangerous - Doctor Hess had believed that the younger one could prove useful, but the incident with Toni had proved he was just as bad as his brother.

_ To the pure, all things are pure, but to those who are corrupted and do not believe, nothing is pure. In fact, both their minds and consciences are corrupted. _

The reply was seen by Ketch in seconds, and Y/N put her phone away, looking up as Mick returned. “I’ve checked in with Lady Bevell,” he said. “Shall we?”

*****

The bunker was exactly as she’d expected - she’d been extensively briefed on the building and what was in it. Driving up, she felt nothing as she saw the Impala parked in the leaves outside, and she ignored Mick as he complimented the vehicle.

“Have you met them before?” Y/N asked, looking up at the building with a lack of emotions.

“I have,” Mick confirmed. “Honestly, they seem like good people.” She had no answer to that, and she hung back as Mick approached the door. “We worked together on a werewolf case. They opened my eyes to a lot of things I hadn’t considered before.”

Y/N snapped her head towards him, wondering what he meant by that, and if she needed to contact Hess. “Have they told you about the nephilim?” she queried and Mick’s face went blank. “So they are not entirely trustworthy.”

“Doctor Hess was hesitant about my involvement with them, it’s true. I was at first,” Mick replied, pulling a key from his pocket. “It’s part of the reason she sent you with me. To make sure the job gets done.” Y/N didn’t say anything, knowing that wasn’t the entire reason she’d been sent, but also knowing that Mick didn’t hold the authority to know about her mission. “And it’ll be nice for you to see old friends, right?”

She huffed at that, watching him unlock the door. The huge metal portal screeched as it opened, and Mick led her down into the bunker, through another rickety metal door that opened up into a massive room. Below them, two tall men stood, aiming their guns at the door.

“Who the hell -” Dean started, before recognizing Mick. “You can’t just walk in when you feel like it,” he griped, shaking his head and putting his gun away.

“Well, actually, I can,” Mick replied, good naturedly. “And anyway, I brought a visitor with me.” Y/N stepped into view, and both Winchesters paled. Sam’s eyes lit up as he saw her, memories of his childhood friend coming to the front of his mind, and he smiled. Dean’s expression was unreadable, and Y/N was careful not to look at him, even as he whispered your name.

Mick moved down the stairs, and Y/N followed, keeping her posture calm as she stood in front of the two boys she’d grown up with. “Sam,” she greeted coolly, dragging her eyes to Dean. “Dean.”

“Y/N!” Sam exclaimed, rushing forward to hug her. Instinct and training made her spring back defensively, and Sam frowned, not expecting that response. “You okay?”

“She’s jumpy,” Mick explained awkwardly as Y/N kept her distance. “And she doesn’t hug.”

Small talk. Y/N knew she had to get them to trust her, and so far, she wasn’t doing very well. Clearing her throat and swallowing around the lump that had formed there, she forced a smile onto her face. “You got tall, Sammy.”

His face twisted into a smile, and he moved towards her again; this time she managed to quell the urge to punch first, and accepted the hug. He was much larger than she expected, and the scent of him was all sandalwood and something fruity. “It’s really good to see you,” he murmured, holding her close, and it was with great difficulty that she extracted herself from the embrace.

“You too,” she mumbled, looking past him to see Dean had moved closer, possibly expecting the same embrace. But she took a step back, closer to Mick, using him as a buffer, offering Dean only a nod of acknowledgement, and it gave her a small amount of satisfaction to see the hurt on his face. “We have a case, right?”

“The nephilim,” Mick provided.

“Of course,” Sam grinned, gesturing to the table. “We’ve been tracking the mother, Kelly Kline. Would you like to see what we have?”

*****

Losing the pregnant woman was a blow, but not as much as realizing that Mick was no longer on board. Y/N had watched him let the Winchesters and their friend leave, albeit hidden. She’d avoided spending too much time with them, concentrating on her orders - to gain their trust and terminate, as quietly as possible.

Now, it seemed that wasn’t going to happen.

_ Headquarters. _

The text from Ketch was the only order she needed, and Y/N made her way to the temporary set up in Kansas, finding that Doctor Hess was there, having flown over from London. When Mick arrived an hour after her, he too was shocked.

Now, he was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood on the table after Ketch had executed him. Hess walked around the table, regarding the corpse without compassion. “And now you see the price of disobedience,” she stated, fixing her eyes on Y/N. “You will finish the mission. Ketch is keeping the mother occupied. The situation is no longer tolerable.” She picked up a file, dropping it onto the table near where Mick’s blood was starting to crawl across the glass. The name “Winchester” was emblazoned across the front. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Y/N replied automatically.

Hess turned her attention to Ketch. “You will place surveillance on the bunker.” She spoke as if the word was distasteful to her. “I want to know everything. Wait for them to leave, then go in and document  _ everything _ . Y/N will remain there once you leave, and carry out her duty when instructed.” There was a cold and calculating look on her face. “Keep your phone on. Check in every forty-eight hours.”

Y/N nodded, accepting her orders, before turning to Ketch, who gave her a wicked grin. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing towards the door. Once out of earshot of Hess, he caught her wrist, smirking. “Have you had fun?”

“Fun isn’t in the job description, Arthur,” Y/N replied. “Although I understand you’ve been toying with your food.”

“Mary Winchester,” he sighed, releasing his hold on her. “Yes, she is rather feisty. I quite liked the assignment.” Ketch chuckled, taking the lead out of the temporary compound. “You’re not enjoying your time with old friends?”

“They’re not my friends,” she spat, anger rising in her, and he blinked at it, surprised. “I’m doing my job, Ketch.” The use of his last name indicated her mood, and Ketch smiled - he liked to rile her up. “You should focus more on your job and not getting your dick wet.” 

He laughed, pausing to hold the door open for her, and Y/N stormed past, angry at him and herself. “You should try having some down time. Maybe give one of the Winchesters a ride before you complete your assignment.” The thought made her stomach churn, and she shook the feeling away, turning on him. Her aggressive posture made Ketch throw his hands up, worry on his face as he realized he may have pushed too hard. “I’m joking, Y/N. I know you’re all business.”

She didn’t say anything, glaring at him for a few moments before walking off, and Ketch watched her go. He knew her history - there wasn’t anything she hadn’t told him, or that he hadn’t found out. He also knew that Dean Winchester was irrevocably in love with her and always had been. The trick was making sure Y/N never knew, and never found out the truth.

After all, once her purpose was served, Ketch was supposed to put a bullet in her head. Loose ends and all.

“Are you coming?” Y/N yelled, and he smiled, lowering his hands.

“Of course.”

*****

Ketch and his team had been gone for hours by the time the Winchesters returned to the bunker. They weren’t expecting to find Y/N there, reading through a book on demonic possessions. “Y/N?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“No, actually, I’m Santa,” she retorted, standing up. “Good hunt.”

“Interesting hunt,” he replied, dropping his bag onto the table. Dean hung back, watching her warily. “Did you need something?”

Y/N cleared her throat, wringing her hands together, trying to appear a little desperate and scared. “I… the Men Of Letters thing… isn’t quite working out. I need somewhere to stay. Away from them.” She gave them a lopsided smile. “I was kinda hoping you guys wouldn’t turn me out on my ass.”

Sam smiled brightly, walking towards her and hugging her again. She wasn’t expecting it, and it took everything she had to accept the affectionate embrace. “Of course we wouldn’t! We were worried when you took off on the hunt for Dagon.”

“I had some things to take care of. Figured you could handle it,” she explained, lying smoothly. “So, it’s okay if I stay?”

Sam glanced at his brother, who shrugged and walked away. There was no doubt he knew about what had happened all those years ago, but Y/N wasn’t going to bring it up. “Yeah, of course. Come on, we’ll show the bedrooms and you can pick one out.” She smiled gratefully, following him down the hall as if she didn’t know where she was going.

After choosing a bedroom, not that she cared, and getting the grand tour from Sam, despite having placed bugs everywhere only hours earlier, she excused herself to shower and sleep. Dean barely spoke a word to her, leaving her be, until she was in her room, sorting out her clothes for the next day.

“Why are you here?” Dean asked, quietly, making Y/N turn towards the door where he was stood.

“I told you,” she started, “I don’t have anywhere else to go and -”

“You know plenty of other hunters,” he interrupted. 

“I don’t,” she replied. “I’ve been in England for nearly twenty years, Dean. I lost touch with everyone.”

He didn’t seem to react to that news. “What about your dad?”

“He died,” Y/N whispered, trying to put some emotion into her words, although she didn’t actually care all that much about it anymore. Death happened, he was a hunter, and he knew the cost. His young daughter didn’t mean enough to him for him to stop and leave the life. “In the Lake District. Wendigo.” She dropped her gaze to the floor briefly. “I heard about your dad. I’m sorry.”

Dean shrugged. “Got over it.” He wandered a little further into the room, trailing his fingers over the bare desk. “Wondered why you never got in contact again.” She didn’t say anything - she didn’t know what to say. History was history, and Y/N no longer cared about any of that. “You...er, you have a mate now?”

“No.”

“Oh. I just thought… you know… Omegas don’t tend to survive much past their thirties -”

“I got help,” she explained, her tone turning cold. There was no need to discuss any of this. As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t an Omega. She wasn’t anything. She had a mission and that was it. “Suppressants. New ones. I don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh,” Dean repeated. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have -”

“It’s okay,” Y/N stopped him. “Look, it’s been a tiring few days, and I could really use some sleep -” Dean nodded, backing up out of the room.

“I got it. Just… it’s good to see you,” he finished, giving her that dashing Winchester smile that he’d inherited from his father, the one that had made all the teenage girls swoon. Only now, it had little to no effect on her. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” she returned, following him to the door and shutting it, sighing when she could finally drop the facade. Moving over to the dresser, she pulled out her burner phone, dialling a number quickly. When the other end answered, she uttered one word, before hanging up and climbing into bed.

*****

Days passed, and Y/N waited. She checked in every forty-eight hours as instructed, but received nothing else. Growing restless, she joined the boys on a hunt, although it was a milk run, she enjoyed it; it felt like she was young again, although her and Dean were much more distant than in their young.

When they returned to the bunker, Y/N excused herself, knowing she needed to take her suppressants. It was easy to ignore the first twinges as she been conditioned to. A warm shower and the tablets Hess provided were enough to prevent the heat from ever really getting started. Once she was clean, she wandered into the kitchen, hunger making her search through the cupboards.

“Something smells good,” Dean commented as he walked in. “Are you cooking?”

Y/N frowned, standing straight from the fridge. “No. I mean, I was going to -”

There was a puzzled look on his face for a second, before he shrugged. “Must be your perfume.” She opened her mouth to say she wasn’t wearing any, but he beat her to the punch. “I was gonna order pizza if you want? Pepperoni and mushroom, extra cheese, right?”

Her stomach churned, and she dismissed it as hunger, not the fact that he still remembered her favorite pizza. It had been so long since she’d even had pizza. “Sounds good,” she smiled, genuinely and Dean beamed at her, gesturing in the direction of the library.

“You wanna come join me and Sam? We’re watching a movie.”

Hesitation made her pause, before she nodded, seeing his hopeful face light up. “Sure, what movie?”

“Lord Of The Rings,” Dean said, turning to leave the room. “We sometimes just watch the trilogy to kill time, but they’re pretty cool films.”

“I, er, haven’t seen them,” Y/N admitted, making Dean freeze in his tracks and turn to face her with horror on his expression. She shrugged, not thinking it was a big deal. “They’re like the books right.”

“Sam will tell you they’re not as good,” he explained, “but I love them. And now I know you haven’t seen them… well, missy. You are in for a treat.” He chuckled, throwing an arm around her shoulders, not noticing the brief moment of tension as she fought against the urge to defend herself from the contact. “Come on. We’ve got the comfy chairs out and everything.”

Her enthusiasm was apprehensive, especially when she saw the small television and the chairs crowded close together. It was a little more personal than Y/N would have liked, but by the time the pizza arrived and the movie was on, she let herself relax a little.

“Damn this pizza smells good,” Dean groaned obscenely, biting into his first slice as the hobbits arrived in Rivendell. Sam nodded, stuffing his face with the food, and Y/N nibble on her pizza, savoring the taste of her favorite childhood food. She was happy that Dean hadn’t been wrong about the film, and she was actually enjoying herself.

For a while, she almost forgot what she was there to do.

The first film ended, and Dean got up to put the second one on. Sam turned around, smiling at Y/N, and she smiled back automatically. “You seem a little less stressed out tonight,” he said, quietly, reaching over to touch her knee. “It’s nice to see.”

Her expression wavered, and she nodded, looking down at the empty pizza box in front of her. Maybe she’d eaten too much. She felt nauseous and overheated, not to mention exhausted. “How long are these films?” she asked, and Dean looked over his shoulder at her.

“Pretty long. You tired, Y/N?” He glanced at Sam after receiving a nod in affirmation, and shrugged. “We can watch the rest another time. You sure you’re not gonna get antsy for the ending?”

“I’ve read the books, Dee, I think I can figure it out.” It was a slip of the tongue, using the nickname he’d carried as a child, as a boy, when they were both innocent. But Dean didn’t miss it. Y/N stood up, wrapping her blanket around her. “I’m gonna go to bed. Ate too much pizza.”

She left without another word, and Dean sat down next to his brother, his gaze lingering on the now-empty doorway. “I don’t know what perfume she’s wearing but it smells amazing,” he sighed, almost missing Sam’s frown. “What?”

“Dean… she’s not wearing any perfume.”

*****

Tossing and turning, Y/N couldn’t get comfortable. Her stomach gurgled and turned over and over, and she wished she could just throw up already. Sweat beaded on her skin, and she kicked the covers off within a few moments of getting under them.

She was unsure how much time had passed when her phone buzzed, lighting up the inside of the drawer. Reaching over, she pulled it open, grabbing the phone in shaky fingers, noting the time as three a.m. The message was from Ketch, and Y/N opened it without thinking.

_ Psalms 78:57 _

Her back went rigid, and her breathing quickened. She sat up, eyes glazed over as she answered the message with the programmed response. 

_ Like their ancestors they were disloyal and faithless, as unreliable as a faulty bow. _

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she stumbled a little, but didn’t react other than to right herself. Her feet slid on the carpet, and her legs goose pimpled in the cold. She’d shed most of the clothing she’d been wearing, and was currently only clad in a short t-shirt and her panties, but she didn’t notice or react to the chill in the bunker. Her nipple hardened, pointing through the shirt as she moved across the room, pulling the silver Colt from the drawer she’d hidden it in when she got here.

Both Winchesters were asleep, and Y/N crept past their rooms, heading for the main generator. It took less than three minutes to shut down the power and put the bunker into lockdown, and the lights turned red. No alarms sounded - she’d been show how to deactivate them, and had done it days before.

Returning to the dormitory corridor, she went to Dean’s room first, opening the door silently. He was asleep, face down on his pillow, and didn’t move when she stepped inside. As she approached, he twitched, and she took aim, ready to pull the trigger.

His arm shot out before she could act, knocking the gun from her hold, throwing himself at her and pinning her to the ground. “What the fuck are you doing?” he growled, involuntarily grinding his pelvis against her core, and Y/N cried out. “Fuck…” Dean inhaled deeply. “You’re in heat. I knew I recognized that smell.”

“Get off of me,” she shrieked, and the sound of Sam’s bedroom door being flung open echoed down the hall. Y/N struggled, unable to shake the larger hunter off of her.

“Why the hell were you in my room?” Dean demanded, as his brother skidded to a halt in the doorway. “Why were you aiming a goddamn gun at me, Y/N?” She kept quiet, fighting him every second, not answering his questions. “Y/N!” he yelled, directly in her face, shaking her, and she went still, staring at him with wide eyes. “Y/N?”

Her head snapped up so fast that Dean didn’t see it coming until pain exploded through his nose and cheeks, and he rocked back, falling onto his ass and losing his grip on Y/N. She bounded up, sprinting for the door, ducking to avoid Sam. The plan failed, as Sam caught her, using his weight and size to his advantage, pinning her against the doorframe with her hands behind her back as his brother climbed to his feet, clutching his bloodied nose.

Y/N panted and squirmed, sweat practically pouring off of her. Sam frowned, using one hand to hold her arms as his other pressed into her forehead. “Dean… she’s running a goddamn fever.”

“Would that normally trigger homicide?” Dean asked, his words muffled by his hand. “Shit, I think she broke my nose.”

The Omega’s struggles lessened, and her eyes rolled back. Sam felt for her pulse, finding it far quicker than it should have been, and when Y/N slumped and dropped unconscious into his hold, he looked up at Dean in concern. “She’s in heat,” he murmured, and Dean nodded.

“I thought she was,” Dean grumbled, using his pyjama shirt to wipe his nose. “I’ve never smelled a heat so strong. She’s intoxicating.” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “Or intoxicated. Why the hell would she try and kill me?”

Sam shrugged, bending his knees to hoist Y/N’s weight into his arms. “But I think for the time being, she needs to be restrained. Can you go and get the chains and I’ll put her in her room? I don’t think the dungeon is gonna be very conductive to her health.” Dean sighed, nodding and wincing at the pain in his head.

The younger Winchester turned away, carrying Y/N gently through to her room. Laying her on the bed, he checked her pulse, finding it slower, a better rhythm than before. Her skin was slick with sweat, and even as a Beta, he could scent the heat on her, and wondered how Dean was even upright. 

As he turned away to pick up the discarded blankets, he spotted the burner phone, and frowned. It wasn’t a phone he’d seen Y/N with before, and when he picked it up, the screen flashed.

_ Progress report. _

The number was listed as Ketch, and Sam’s eyes darkened. Dean entered, arms full of chains, and Sam looked up, noticing the bruising coming out on his brother’s face. He held out the phone wordlessly, and Dean looked puzzled, taking it from him, handing him the restraints. “What’s this?” Reading the messages, his puzzled expression only grew.

Sam was busy securing Y/N down to the bed, a sigh leaving him. “Those are messages from Ketch.”

“I can see that,” Dean mumbled, scrolling through. “But what are these? Bible verses?”

“Trigger words,” Sam replied, locking Y/N’s arms into the chains at the top of the bed. “She’s been conditioned. This Y/N… she’s not the same girl we knew, Dean.”

Dean looked up, focusing his gaze on the unconscious Omega he’d dreamed about for twenty years. “Dad said that Mark took her to Europe. She didn’t say when he died. What if they’ve had her all this time?” He shook his head slowly. “Sam… what have they done to her?”

*****


	3. Chapter 3

 

Y/N came to slowly, opening her eyes first. When she tugged her arms down automatically in response to her awakening, she found herself restrained, and her mind flashed back to what had happened. 

Her struggles began anew.

Dean and Sam both appeared in her line of sight, and she struck out, trying to connect with them, land a hit wherever she could. But, with the angle she was held in and the superior strength of the two hunters, she was easily restrained.

“Let me go!” she screeched loudly, and Dean shook his head. She noted the bruises around his nose and eyes, the split in the skin where her head had collided with his. It gave her a small amount of satisfaction, but she still hadn’t completed her mission.

Y/N had never failed a mission.

“No one can hear you scream, Y/N,” Dean warned. “You’re not well.”

The sweat on her skin and the nausea still taunting her was testament to that. She hadn’t felt like this in years, and she knew exactly what had happened. Her suppressants had failed. “Let me go,” she repeated, grinding her teeth together. Neither Winchester acknowledged her, and she returned to screaming and thrashing.

“You’ve been brainwashed, Y/N. You don’t want to hurt us!” Sam insisted, but Y/N only bucked harder. “Calm down, and we’ll talk. This isn’t you.”

Dean swore as her fingers clawed into his bicep, drawing blood, and the Omega gnashed her teeth at him, appearing like a wild animal. “Calm the fuck down, Y/N!” he roared, making Sam look up at him in surprise.

Y/N froze and went deathly still, staring at Dean. He released his hold, not noticing Sam’s look of surprise shift to her. “Dean… what did you just do?” he breathed, taking his hands off of the Omega. His brother’s mouth worked open and closed as he tried to figure it out. “Dean… that was an Alpha command. Y-your Omega would respond to that.”

The elder Winchester stared at Y/N, who was still unmoving, and visibly calmer. “I’m not her Alpha, Sam.”

“Maybe it’s because she’s in heat,” Sam offered. “She’s responding on instinct. And the conditioning, th-that might be making it worse. She’s following orders.”

“Is that why you tried to kill us?” Dean demanded, the question coming out harder than he’d thought. Without missing a beat, Y/N replied.

“Yes.”

Sam’s eyes slid from his brother to his friend, unsure of what to suggest. It was clear this woman was not the girl he remembered, but he refused to believe that she would ever be capable of killing them - especially Dean. He’d watched his brother go through life like he was missing a limb, all because he had lost her. “Dean… we need to know what happened to her.”

Dean nodded, moving a little closer, noticing that the Omega’s eyes remained glued on his. “Y/N. How long were you in England?” She shifted, keeping her gaze on him but not responding. “It’s not working, Sam,” Dean groaned, and Sam sucked in a breath.

“You’re talking normally. You need to use that Alpha tone. It will make her respond; the primal part of her won’t allow her to disobey while she’s like this.” Sam watched as Dean inhaled deeply, before letting the air out in a whoosh. Y/N didn’t blink. “Just… focus on her scent. That might help.”

A dry laugh left the elder man, and he leaned over Y/N, using his arms to hold his weight as he stared right at her. Within seconds, he was hard, aching from her unique smell. “Y/N,” he started, and she tensed. “How long were you in England?”

“Twenty-one years,” she replied, “six months and forty two days.” 

Sam exhaled, leaning back as Dean kept her stare. “How long were you with the Men Of Letters?”

“Twenty years, two months and seven days.”

Dean glanced over at Sam, who grimaced at her answer. “What did they do to you there?”

Y/N’s face twisted, like it was painful to remember. “I - I trained. I did missions, hunted. I - I - Doctor Hess and -”

“Who’s Doctor Hess?” Dean demanded, pushing through his own discomfort at her pain.

“One of the elders,” Y/N cried, arching in pain. “She sent me for training, she… I -” Her phone bleeped again, and Dean tore away from her, just as Sam picked up the phone. “Please, I have to finish my mission,” she pleaded, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Mission?” Dean repeated, just as Sam held out the phone. The same message from Ketch, requesting a progress report.

“I have to finish my mission,” Y/N sobbed. “I have to finish my mission.”

“What’s your mission, Y/N?” Sam’s voice was gentle as he sat down beside her. “Tell us. We’re not going to hurt you.” She shook her head, and Sam looked up at Dean. “Dean -”

“No, Sam. Whatever I was doing, it was  _ hurting _ her.” The agitation was clear in the way Dean’s shoulders tensed, the way he ran his hand through his hair. “I can’t… we could seriously injure her. Don’t these triggers involved torture? Things like that? I’m not gonna force her to talk!”

“We  _ need _ to know, Dean,” Sam insisted, and Dean shook his head. The phone bleeped again with another message. The younger Winchester looked down, frowning as he read it.

“What?” Dean asked.

“It’s from Ketch again.” He held up the phone so Dean could read it. “Guess we know what the mission is now.”

_ Y/N, progress report. Are the Winchesters dead? _

“She’s a double agent,” Dean surmised, his face crumpling at the sight of the message. “Sam, they’ve… they’ve trained her like some kind of attack dog.” He looked down at Y/N, who was shivering in her restraints, tear tracks down her cheeks as her fever increased. “How the hell do we fix her?”

*****

They were reluctant to leave her alone while she was conscious, so Sam set up at the side of her bed with his laptop, searching for information on conditioning. Y/N remained quiet and still, possibly due to Dean’s earlier command, but they couldn’t be sure. 

“Ketch called again. They’re gonna know something’s up,” Dean warned, wandering into the room with a book in his hands. “But, on the plus side, I found this.” He held the book out and Sam took it, scanning the page. “Hey, sweetheart. You ready to talk yet?” She didn’t do anything except follow him with her eyes, and Dean sighed. “Guess not.”

“I don’t know if this will work,” Sam murmured. “This is powerful magic, Dean. Where’d you even find this?”

Dean shrugged. “You installed the cataloguing system. I just followed the most sensible route. Conditioning is similar to mind control right?” He glanced over at the immobilized Omega. “Or, Y/N could realize that we’re the least qualified people to go rooting around in her brain, and just tell us what we want to know.”

“It’s not that simple,” the younger Winchester pointed out, giving his brother an exasperated look. “If she’s undergone conditioning, she may not be physically able to tell us anything without significant pain. We have to break the mental rules the Men Of Letters have put in place, so she can essentially be her own independent functioning person again.” Sam’s eyes landed on Y/N, who was still watching Dean’s every movement. “If we aren’t careful, we could kill her.”

A sombre and heavy atmosphere fell over the room, and Dean sat down on the bed next to Y/N. “You must be hungry. Will you at least eat or drink?” Again, she didn’t respond, and he grunted in irritation. “How long does it take for someone to die of thirst?” Dean asked Sam, who sighed at his brother’s pointless tactic.

“Threatening her won’t work, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know. And Ketch will probably turn up here before we’re done trying to get anything out of her.” The elder hunter stood up, his nerves forcing him to pace impatiently. “What about dream root?”

“That only works when the target is asleep.”

“There’s gotta be some precedent for this,” Dean griped. “Cas is AWOL, so he can’t help. Not that we can be sure angelic powers would snap her out of it.” He crossed the room again, running his hand through his hair for the umpeenth time. Sam sometimes wondered how he wasn’t bald from the action. “We gotta do something.”

“For starters, she’s locked this place down. So unless Ketch knows how to get in, we’re safe. You know, until we starve.” Sam stood up, placing his laptop on the bedside table. “Y/N is in there, somewhere. She’s aware of what is going on, but the conditioning will prevent her from answering our questions. Short of a psychic, I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

Neither of them knew what to say or suggest and the room lapsed into silence. Dean stared at Y/N, who stared blankly back, as Sam thumbed through the book, stretching his legs out from sitting for hours. “I don’t know how much longer she can hold out like that,” Dean muttered, frowning as Y/N’s fingers flexed in the chains. “Her heat is getting stronger, Sam.”

Sam’s head jerked up, and he hummed at the idea he’d had. “Maybe we can use that.”

“What?” Dean blinked, unsure of what his brother meant.

“Look, she responded to you as an Alpha. She’s been suppressing that part of her, that primal instinct, and it’s been replaced with the conditioning. So, if we can get her primal side to manifest, she may be able to break through whatever the Brits did on her own.”

“That’s a big risk, Sam.”

“I know, and it… it would kinda involve you claiming her.”

Dean shook his head. “Uh-uh, no way, not happening.”

Sam gave him a look that combined sarcasm with annoyance. “You’ve been in love with her since you were six, Dean.”

“Yeah, and twenty plus years has passed. She doesn’t feel the same way.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Neither can you!” Dean shouted, and Y/N flinched, the first physical sign that she was listening to them. “Sam, I’m not gonna hedge her life on a risk that she might still like me after two friggin’ decades!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking away from both of them. “Find another way.”

“What if this is the other way?” Sam replied, quietly, and Dean shot him a dirty look, before storming out, leaving them alone. The younger Winchester fixed his gaze on Y/N as he retook his seat, opening his laptop back to the page he was on. “He’s so goddamn stubborn. You always were as bad as each other.” Y/N didn’t say anything. “I hope when you’re out of this, you stop wasting time. God knows, you’ve already wasted enough.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her breathing as Sam’s words filtered through to the part of her that still remember who she was. She wanted to shout, to scream, to tell them everything… but whatever Hess had done, she couldn’t so much as twitch a pinky finger to tell the truth. Her stomach churned with a combination of hunger and heat, and need. Dean’s earlier command had allowed her a small amount of self-recognition, but now, she  _ needed  _ him to tell her, to help her.

And she had absolutely no way to let him know that the one thing he didn’t want to do… was exactly how he could save her.

*****

Dean was in the boiler room, trying to figure out what Y/N had done to lock the place down. They were going to need to get out of there at some point, and he needed something to occupy his mind other than the Omega he’d been thinking about for twenty plus years.

He still remembered the taste of her skin, the way she moved on top of him. It had only been once, and a brief once at that, but no woman had ever come close to touching him like Y/N had. Not even Lisa had managed to worm her way into the space his Omega occupied.

No matter what he said to Sam, or what he said to anyone else, or even what he’d thought in years past - Y/N would always be his Omega. He’d always be her Alpha. Dean only regretted not marking her when he had the chance - he’d left his fear and self-doubt ruin whatever was between them, and he’d lost her.

And it seemed she’d lost herself because of it.

He could only imagine how she’d felt, alone in England without her father. Turning to someone like the Men Of Letters was easy. They presented themselves as the good guys, a front Dean had initially believed. Now they knew better, but it might be too late for Y/N.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice echoed down the hallway, and the older Winchester turned exhausted eyes to the door. “You in here?”

“Yeah,” Dean called, just as Sam appeared around the corner with a small smile on his face. “What’s up?”

“Y/N is asleep,” Sam informed him. “I found an article on conditioning of Soviet soldiers. It might have provided us with a solution.” Dean didn’t reply, waiting for Sam to continue. “What are you doing in here?”

“Trying to figure out the shutdown sequence. Ketch might be able to get in, so I figure it’s better if we’re able to get out first,” Dean explained, sighing and tugging at his collar. “So, what did this article say?”

Sam nodded, looking around the room. “One soldier returned from forced imprisonment. He was conditioned to fight when a certain trigger was said, and he nearly killed a civilian. The doctors put him in a psych ward.”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

“They broke the conditioning with familiarisation. Familiar stimulus provoked an emotional reaction, a connection, and the soldier was able to work through the trigger without exhibit the conditioned response.” His finished explanation left Dean with his jaw hanging open, trying to decipher the technical language, and Sam waited a moment before explaining it in a simpler way. “They forced him to remember things from his past, things that made him who he was, and he broke the conditioning himself.”

“Do you think this will work?” Dean asked, sounding skeptical.

“It’s worth a try. The only problem is… we don’t have anything. All we have is memories. This guy had his family there, his kids, personal items…”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he cleared his throat. “I have… a few ideas.”

Sam tilted his head to the side. “Huh?”

“We’re her family, Sam. We were together constantly for like, fifteen years. We’ve got photos, we’ve got stories…” He cleared his throat. “I might have a couple of things she left behind.” Optimism had the older man bouncing on the balls of his feet. “This might work.”

“We don’t have much time,” Sam warned.

“Then we’d better get started.”

*****

Y/N opened her eyes slowly, feeling the weight of her own body. She was exhausted, too hot, and starving. Her throat was dry, and felt like it was closing up. To her right, Dean was sitting, watching her, and she felt a small amount of relief at his presence, before despair at her situation set in.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, smiling at her. She wanted to reply, to tell him she felt like crap, and could she please have some Tylenol, but her mouth ignored her request to speak. “Like crap, huh? Me too. Really wish I could hear your voice.” He leaned back in his chair, his smile taking on an odd shadow. “I know you want to talk to me. I can see it in your eyes.”

She wanted to cry. But her body wouldn’t let her do that either. Keeping her eyes on Dean, she focused on each part of her body, trying to get something,  _ anything _ to happen.

“I remember when you were seven, and you were insistent that Mr Donaghue was a vampire. You kept telling my dad and yours over and over - “he’s a vampire, he’s gonna kill us”. Turned out he was a stripper, which wasn’t any less horrifying, but not lethal.” Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “God, we used to get into all sorts of trouble. You remember that?”

Nothing. She remembered, but she couldn’t tell him. It felt like she was cracking apart inside.

“And that time we fell asleep under the stars when we were at the apartment in Florida? It was a bazillion degrees outside, so I dragged the bed sheets out onto the lawn, and we slept right there, out in the open. You got bitten by a thousand bugs, and my dad taped oven mitts to your hands to stop you scratching.”

Y/N’s eyes stung, and her breath got stuck in her throat. Why was he doing this? He knew she couldn’t answer, and fighting it was so damn tiring…

“I thought about you a lot after you left,” Dean admitted, drawing his eyes away from hers for a moment, twisting his thumbs around each other. “Didn’t speak to Dad for a week, I was so pissed. But not at him. Myself. Because I pushed you away, when I could have stopped it, just… just by doing what my instincts told me to.” He leaned forward, looking at her with such openness and honesty, she wanted to scream. “You were my Omega from the moment we met, Y/N. I know you were. But I was scared and stupid and… now we’re here.”

Her insides were churning now, like her soul was trying to escape it’s fleshy confines to reach him, but couldn’t. Dean reached behind himself, into his jeans pocket, pulling out a folded and crumpled piece of paper, which he laid on her chest.

“I kept this. Three decades and I’ve kept it. I never let you go, Y/N. And I need you to hold on right now, to fight back against whatever they’ve done to you -”

A loud screeching sound went off, and Dean stopped abruptly, standing up with such speed that the chair he was on fell over. Y/N was screaming in her head for him to finish what he was saying, to show her the picture, that she was so close, but he’d never hear her. 

“Sam!” he yelled, and the younger Winchester appeared at the door, looking flushed. “What the hell?”

“Ketch. He’s got lackeys. They’re getting in way quicker than we thought.”

Dean glanced back towards the bed, where Y/N still hadn’t moved. “It didn’t work. We didn’t have enough time. Sam -”

“I know, I know,” his brother said. “We’ll lock her in here, and hopefully we can stop them.” Dean pushed past him, and Sam spared a quick glance for his captive friend, before following his brother out of the door. The lock clicked into place with a deafening sound, and Y/N lost all hope.

_ What are you going to do now? _

Hess’ voice was in her head, and Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore it. She remembered every moment of torture, of negative repercussions when she didn’t do as commanded. For nearly a year, Doctor Hess had kept her in solitary confinement, allowing only a select few to have access to her. They were all abusive, hurting her mentally and physically, but none of them were as bad as Hess.

_ You’re a lost cause, Y/N. Only good for one thing. _

_ You failed your mission. _

_ You know what that means. _

Y/N screamed, unsure if the sound came from her mouth or just echoed in her head. They’d made her into a weapon, a tool, and she didn’t want to be that way. She wanted to be the girl she’d been so long ago, the hunter who was proud of what she did, who didn’t have innocent blood on her hands. Hess had twisted her to suit the needs of the Men Of Letters, and Y/N wasn’t that person.

_ Stop fighting and give in. They can’t save you. _

*****

“Where’s Y/N?” Ketch asked, coolly, holding his gun on Dean from across the room. Sam was on the ground, bleeding from a shot to the forearm, and Dean had his gun aimed at Ketch in return. It was a standoff, and neither of them were gaining ground. Ketch had lost three men already, and the last two were looking nervous as hell.

“Not your business.”

“She is property of the Men Of Letters,” the agent replied, his smug face looking like it needed a punch. In Dean’s opinion anyway. “Return her.”

Dean scoffed, leaning back a little. “Property? She’s not property. She’s a friggin’ person.”

Ketch looked exasperated with that, and gestured to his men. “Find her.”

“Don’t fucking move,” Sam growled, anger flushing his face red as he aimed his gun with his good arm. The two men paused, unsure whether to follow their superiors orders, or avoid geting shot.

“You’re very protective of her,” the Englishman observed. “Surprising, as her mission was to kill you both. When she didn’t reply, I grew concerned.”

“Concerned? You actually feel that for someone other than yourself?” Dean spat, not moving his gun one inch.

“Of course I would be concerned,” Ketch smirked. “She’s my Omega afterall.”

The silence in the room was chilling, and Dean’s fingers tightened on the gun, his eyes narrowing with rage. “You’re lying.” He shook his head. “No way Y/N would mate with a douchebag like you.” The other man’s smirk was infuriating, but he had planted enough doubt to make Dean feel sick. Had Y/N really taken an Alpha? She said she hadn’t, that she was dealing with the heats another way…

“Why do you think she is so eager to serve me?” Ketch asked, his tone turning lewd. “The way she fights - she’s just as voracious in bed, you know. Loves an Alpha knot.” His words were having the desired effect - Dean was seeing red, and ready to kill.

Sam reached up, wincing as he moved his wounded arm. “Dean… she’s not mated. She doesn’t carry a mark.”

“Of course she doesn’t. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to mark her where it’s visible,” Ketch taunted, and Dean growled loudly. “Feeling territorial, are we? Why don’t you tell me where she is, and no one else needs to die today.”

“Except for us,” Sam ground out, glaring at the other man.

“Well, I wasn’t going to mention that…” Ketch remarked snidely, tilting the gun.

“Arthur!” All three men froze at the sound, and Y/N limped around the corner, clutching her middle, two length of chain trailing behind her. Her wrists were bleeding, and one arm was at an awkward angle, and she looked beyond pissed. Dean immediately dropped the standoff, running to her side, and she reached out, taking his hand and pressing the crumpled, and now bloodied, picture into his palm. “Dean,” she gasped, leaning into him as he held her up. “How do you spell forever?”

The clicking sound of a gun being cocked drew everyone’s attention back to Ketch, who looked furious. “This is an unfortunate turn of events,” he tutted, shaking his head. “But, seeing as orders were for no one to leave alive…”

A single gunshot echoed through the room, and Ketch looked down in surprise, watching blood start to stain his crisp white shirt. Sam’s gun was smoking, and he scowled at the Englishman as his body dropped to the floor, the shot to his heart killing him almost instantly. The other two Men Of Letters baulked, and Dean shot them a filthy look.

“Either run, or die. Easy choice, if you ask me.”

They ran.

Y/N’s agonized cry had Dean sweeping her into his arms. “You did it,” he whispered. “You did it, Y/N.”

“Dean -” Her soft voice drove through his heart like an iron stake, and she passed out, a dead weight in his arms. Dean glanced at Sam, panic on his face.

“She’s breathing,” Sam groaned, clutching his arm. “How did she get out?” Dean looked down, inspecting the wounds along her forearms, seeing the damage she’d done to herself. “Did she smash her way out?” the younger hunter asked incredulously. With a shrug, Dean turned away, heading down the corridor to the bedrooms, seeing the door to her room in splinters. 

Ignoring the mess, he followed the hall to his room, laying her on his bed, just as Sam wandered in behind him. “These wounds need dressing. And so does yours,” Dean pointed out, and Sam looked down the bullet wound to his arm. “Did it go through?”

“A graze. A deep one, but a graze. I can take care of it. You need the keys to get those chains off of her arms.” Sam pulled the keys from his pocket, handing them over, watching as Dean set about unlocking Y/N’s restraints. “Her room is mess. Do you think the conditioning is gone?”

“Only one way to find out,” Dean muttered. “Wait until she wakes up, have her read those passages on the burner phone. Rinse and repeat until we’re sure that she’s cured.” He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, unfolding it, and Sam frowned as he realized what it was.

“Is that…”

Dean nodded, a wistful smile on his face. “She drew it for me, when we were six. We were staying at Bobby’s, and I told her she’d spelled forever wrong. Except she’d actually spelled friend wrong. And then she added Baby to the picture and said it was for me.”

“And you kept it all this time?” His brother lifted his shoulders in a shrug, a classic Dean reaction to a situation that required more emotion than he could muster. Sam smiled, nudging him with his elbow. “Good thing, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dean huffed, his eyes drifting back to Y/N. She looked wrecked, and bloodied, but she was alive. Now they just had to hope that when she woke up, she was her again.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Waking up was becoming a jarring experience, but Y/N was thankful to find that this time, she wasn’t bound and had control of her own faculties. The bed she was in, however, was not her own, and it was thick with the scent of Alpha; specifically Dean. She curled into the covers, wincing as she realized the extent of her injuries.

A low rumble from outside her fabric fortress made her freeze, and she poked her head out of the covers, seeing Dean slumped in a very uncomfortable looking chair. One long leg was hung over the arm, with his head resting on his shoulder - his mouth was open, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he was drooling.

It was goddamn adorable.

Shifting under the covers, Y/N forced herself into a seated position, feeling a pounding in her temples that worsened with each movement. She couldn’t help the little cry of pain, and Dean immediately snapped upright, eyes wide, and gun drawn.

“Dean!” she squeaked, frightened by his sudden movement, and he blinked, clearing away the fog of sleep to see her sitting up. The gun disappeared from sight, and he was leaning over her in an instant.

“Y/N, you’re awake - how are you feeling?” he asked, checking her over, although she kept the covers clutched close to her chest.

“Like hell,” Y/N replied, enduring his fussing for a moment. “I… I’m so sorry, Dean.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“I tried to kill you,” she whispered, avoiding his eyes. “I… I came here specifically with the intention of leaving you and Sammy dead, and… I’m so sorry.” Silence stretched between them, before Dean started chuckling, and naturally, Y/N took offence. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” he pointed out. “You weren’t in control of yourself, darlin’. How can you apologize for something that’s not your fault?”

She scowled, pushing him away, flinching as she caught the wounds on her cut up wrists. “Ow,” she whimpered. “Damn, I did a number on myself, huh?” Her eyes met his. “I’m sorry I broke the door.”

“Stop apologizing,” he ordered softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You saved our asses with that little distraction. Saved your own too. The door was a necessary casualty. And the bed. And the chains.” He laughed again, shaking his head. “You don’t know your own strength.”

She shrugged, wiggling her feet under the covers, near to his ass. “I just wanted to get out.” There was a brief pause as she reached over and took his hand. “Want to get to you.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment as her thumb glided over the back of his knuckles, feeling the warmth and comfort of old. “I wondered what happened to you,” Dean started, keeping his voice quiet. “I worried, and Dad couldn’t get hold of Mark… I thought the worst for a while. And then I realized… you couldn’t be dead, because I’d have known.”

She swallowed around the lump in her throat, giving him a watery smile. “I may as well have been. The last few years… I wasn’t me. I was an emotionless robot. I killed and did things… they had complete control of me.” A shudder ran through her. “Things changed when they split me and Arthur up. They did something to him, made him cold and vicious.” She paled as she remembered what had happened. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Dean nodded, unsure whether to voice the question on the tip of his tongue, but curiosity got the better of him. “Were you and him -”

“No,” she denied, adamantly. “What I said when I was… when I was not me… that was true. They stopped my heats, took away that part of me. I don’t think they were expecting the suppressants to fail. But no, me and Arthur were never more than friends.”

“Good,” he pressed, feeling nothing but relief. The images that had been taunting him while she was unconscious were not pleasant, and he was happy to shove them to the back of his mind. “I don’t think I could have handled that.”

Y/N frowned, watching him closely. “It’s always been you, Dean.” She pushed herself up a little more, leaning towards him, despite the pain she was in. “I know I said… that I didn’t need you… but it’s always been you. You’re my Alpha. Don’t you know that?”

Dean stared at her, leaning in unconsciously, parting his lips, prepared to surrender everything to her… and Sam walked in, shattering the moment. He paused, looking a little awkward, the tray in his fingers jingling as the coffee cup slid against the bowl of soup. “Er… should I leave?”

As if answering the question for her, Y/N’s stomach rumbled loudly, and Dean cracked. Laughter left him, and he moved out of the way so Sam could present the starving Omega with the tray of food. “I’m gonna go and grab a shower,” Dean informed them, backing away slowly.

Once out in the corridor, he managed to breathe properly, pressing himself against the wall. His pants were uncomfortably tight after being surrounded by her scent, and he was fairly certain it was only pure exhaustion that allowed him to sleep in the chair. Her admission had only increased his arousal, and now… now he had to go and take care of business, so he could actually act like a grown up and not a lovelorn teenager.

*****

“You got tall, Sammy,” Y/N whispered, looking up as Sam smiled broadly. “I think I already told you that. Or not me. Robot me?” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m so not with it.”

“You’ll get there,” Sam assured her, sitting down in the spot his brother had been in. “And it’s Sam now. Sammy was the chubby twelve year old.”

“You were never chubby,” she insisted, smiling at him, before scooping up some soup on the oversized spoon he’d provided. The sound she made was pure bliss. “God, that’s good soup.”

Sam gave her a look of amusement. “Cooked it myself. Managed to use the can opener and everything.” She giggled, before returning her attention to her food, savoring each bite before swallowing it down. He was glad to see her more like the girl he remembered, and hopeful that maybe her renewed presence, if she decided to stay, would be a positive thing for Dean.

He needed it, now more than ever.

Off-key singing filtered down the hallway, and Sam grinned, watching Y/N look up, her face twisting in confusion. “Is that… Dean?” she asked, glancing to Sam.

“Yeah. Haven’t heard him sing for a while.”

Her nose scrunched up delicately. “I’d have counted that as a blessing. I thought that he’d have gotten better over the years, but he’s still butchering Metallica.” Sam laughed loudly, and Y/N smiled, pushing the tray away as she finished her meal, leaving her only the coffee. She sipped at it gingerly, making a smacking sound with her lips. “I love coffee,” she murmured. “You know, the British are really bad at coffee? At least, all the ones I met were.”

“Think you’re up to a stroll?” Sam asked, gesturing to the door. “We could do with changing those bandages, and I thought maybe, a renewed tour -”

“Bugs!” Y/N yelped suddenly, and Sam jumped at the sound. “They bugged the place. The whole place.” Her eyes went wide. “They’re everywhere, Sam, I forgot, we need to -” The stress of the outburst made her pant with heavy breaths, and Sam pushed her back onto the bed.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You rest. I’ll take care of it,” he assured her, frowning at the thought that someone had been listening to everything.

“It was Arthur. He put them -” she paused, gulping down air, struggling to breathe, “they’re -”

“Y/N, you need to calm down.” The bad singing stopped as Sam tried to hold her back from doubling over, which would only make the situation worse. The coffee cup fell from her hands to the bed, staining the sheets instantly with the warm brown liquid, and Dean’s body made a soft thud as he collided with the door, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. He was soaked from head to toe, panic strewn across his face as he saw his brother attempting to calm Y/N down.

“Y/N -” Dean called, catching her attention. Tears were streaming down her face. “What the hell happened, Sam?”

“She freaked out. Said there were bugs in the bunker,” Sam explained, watching Y/N fight for breath. “This happens, sometimes, it’s like PTSD -” Dean scowled at the mention, pulling Y/N into his arms. The only thing he knew to do was to offer the comfort he’d given freely when he was young, and as soon her body came into contact with his, she visibly calmed, her deep, wrenching breaths dissipating into hiccuped sobs. “I’ll go and get some water.”

Dean nodded, shushing Y/N as she buried herself in his soaked chest. “You’re all wet,” she whispered, and he chuckled.

“Well, I felt like something was wrong,” he replied, pulling back to look down at her, but her eyes were closed. “I panicked.” She hummed, but he could feel the tension melting away from her, bringing a blanket of exhaustion. The things she’d been through, he didn’t want to imagine - all Dean wanted was to wipe it clean, make her happy…

All the things an Alpha wants for his Omega.

“I’m so tired,” she mumbled, and Dean sighed, knowing that he wasn’t about to finish his shower any time soon.

By the time Sam returned with a glass of water, both Dean and Y/N were out cold. He placed the glass of water on the nightstand, before backing out of the room slowly, a twitch of a smile on his lips as he closed the door. Heading off to the library, he couldn’t help but feel a little spring in his step at the thought of his brother and friend reunited.

Hours later, Y/N stirred first, stretching before realizing she was tucked up against Dean, his body covered with a towel that had slipped down. The slight paunch of his belly held onto to enough to cover his dignity, but she could clearly make out the lines leading down to his crotch, a few wisps of dark hair just visible against the white of the cotton. He wasn’t the well-defined teen he’d been so long ago, but he was still a handsome specimen of a man - years of hunting showed in his physique, but it wasn’t that which drew her eye.

Scars littered his skin. Some were a whisper of white against his slight tan, but there were others that stood out like beacons. Under his ribs, a long jagged mark that looked to have been caused by teeth or claws; another four inches or so above it, right through the heart that made her stomach drop.

There was no conscious thought as she reached out with shaking fingers, tracing each scar delicately, her eyes darting to his face every second or so to see if he stirred. He didn’t, save for a twitch of his lips as she passed over a thick scar on the left side of his ribs, that almost looked like it had once been a burn.

On the shoulder closest to her, there was a faint line of red, and when she looked closer, she swore she could see the outline of a handprint there. A trail of freckles spattered his chest, sliced through with another scar - five points this time, ragged crescent moons like nail marks.

Following the freckles upwards, Y/N found herself captivated by his relaxed features. In the face of the man, she could see the echoes of the boy she’d once known - the boy she’d loved with everything she had. How could she have forgotten him? How could she have discarded all those memories and allowed herself to be controlled?

Dean’s eyes snapped open, and he frowned, seeing the tears brimming in her eyes. Her distress was obvious, and he immediately cupped her cheek, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I let you go,” she whispered. “Everything they did… none of it is as awful as the fact that I forgot you, I forgot you meant to me.” She paused, feeling the tears fall, staggered by her eyelash. One droplet slid down, dispersed as it caught on Dean’s thumb, changing the direction of the flow. It caused on the corner of her mouth, and she could taste salt on her lips. “What you still mean to me.”

The last thing she was expecting was for him to laugh, before pulling her close. “Y/N… it’s not your fault.”

The dam broke. Hers sobs came thick and fast, her entire body jerking with the force of them. Goose pimples erupted over her skin, and she could feel her lungs burning more and more with each wretched breath, and the skin under her eyes itched as her tears caused it to swell and redden.

“You’re okay,” Dean shushed, still smiling as he wiped the tears away. “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, Y/N. I haven’t even caught you up on the many fuck-ups of Dean Winchester through the years.”

“Dean, I -”

He shook his head again, and Y/N stared at him in confusion. She didn’t understand how he could forgive her - he didn’t even know the things she’d done, the blood on her hands. “Stop,” he ordered, softly, pressing his lips against hers. “All I care about, is that you’re here. You’re alive. You’re away from them.” Her breath hitched in her throat, and she arched her head a little more. “You’re with me.”

“I am,” she acknowledged, covering his hands with hers. “I missed you so much.”

Dean nodded, kissing her again. It deepened as she rolled her hips, pushing herself flush against him, her tongue pressing into his mouth insistently. He groaned, and the reaction to her close proximity destroyed the last of the towels efforts to cover his dignity. The second groan he made didn’t sound as pleasured, and Y/N pulled back, worried she’d done something wrong.

“Sorry,” he grunted, looking a little sheepish. “Nature calls.” Y/N sagged with relief, offering no resistance as Dean pulled away, quickly wrapping the towel around his waist again, sadly before she caught a glimpse of his firm ass. He padded to the door, poking his head out, looking both ways before sneaking out, leaving the door ajar.

Y/N sat up, looking down at her hands and arms. She was cut to pieces, mostly shallow grazes, and a flash of punching her way through a door made her shudder. The anger she’d felt, the desperation to get to Dean - the chains had been easy to break, and the thought of that strength made her stomach curl. She’d heard of mothers, Omega and otherwise, lifting cars to save their children, occasionally a stricken Alpha. But she’d never thought she’d experience it, and not for an Alpha who’d never claimed her.

“You okay?” Dean asked, walking back in with his hand holding the towel in place, catching her staring into space.

“Yeah… I just… it feels weird,” she admitted, glancing up at him as he slid back into the bed. “I know we… when we were kids… but… there wasn’t a claim.”

“No,” he agreed, picking up on where she was going.

“Then why does it feel like a bond has slipped back into place?” she whispered, locking her eyes with his, searching them for something to explain it. “Why does it feel like I’m back with my claimed Alpha, with… with my mate?”

Dean leaned in, smiling as he pulled her closer, kissing her again. “Because you’ve always been my Omega,” he reasoned, not giving her a chance to argue, not that she would. Her fingers were just as greedy as his, seeking out every patch of skin she could find. “I love you, so much,” Dean murmured, barely parting from her lips to speak.

Y/N whimpered, pushing Dean onto his back, throwing her barely-clad leg over his waist. The towel was history, bunched under his hips, and no longer protecting any part of his modesty. Her thighs pressed in around him, her core grinding against his swollen length, and he snarled at the heat of her body on his.

“Alpha,” she purred, nuzzling along his jaw before peppering kisses around his mouth. “Need you -”

“God, I need you too,” Dean replied, pulling her down, tangling his fingers in her hair. “I’ve needed you for so long.”

Her mind flashed back to when she’d told him that she’d never need him, and how much of a lie that had been. She needed to show him, to take it back, to apologize for everything she’d ever done. “Dean…”

“I got you,” he assured her, teasing a bite against her throat, sliding his hands down to her hips. “Gonna make you mine, Y/N.” His hips thrust upwards, and she whined loudly. “Should have done this years ago.” He rolled her, positioning himself between her legs, lifting one to wrap around his waist. Y/N pressed her head back into the pillow, gasping as he kissed down her throat, caressing her overheated skin with his lips, using his teeth to tug her thin vest down, freeing one breast to his greedy mouth.

His name dropped from her lips in a whisper, half choked on a breath, but Dean didn’t stop. He seized her nipple, suckling gently until he released it into a hardened peak. The air made the skin around it pimple upwards, darkening with arousal. With a smirk, he slid further down, not stopping until his breath fanned over the waistband of her sleep shorts.

“You smell amazing,” he murmured, running the tip of his nose back and forth against the patch of skin below her navel. “Are you wet for me, Omega?” Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip and raising her hips as he curled his fingers into her shorts and tugged them down. The sight of her damp sex was a slow reveal, but Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of her, not stopping until her shorts were free and flung across the room. He sat on his haunches, looking down at her, clad only in the vest, her knees automatically coming together to cover herself.

Immediately, he placed his hands over her kneecaps, gently forcing her legs back open, and her cheeks darkened with shame.

“Don’t hide from me.” The whispered order precluded him lowering down between her thighs again, calloused fingers gliding over her skin to press her legs open wider. He made a obscene noise of pleasure as he pressed his face into her, inhaling her scent and tasting her on the tip of his tongue.

“Alpha,” she hissed, yelping when Dean trailed his tongue up through her folds, teasing out her clit from its tiny hood, flicking his tongue over it repeatedly. She was already so hot, so close, the heat in her belly making everything more intense, sharper to her nerve endings. As Dean sucked her clit into his mouth, his front teeth scraping over it with the lightest touch, Y/N came panting and writhing, her legs twitching between the urge to close and the urge to open further for him.

When he pulled away, licking his lips with an over-exaggerated smacking sound, she didn’t move. Her eyes had fluttered closed, and her chest was heaving, one breast still tucked over the edge of the vest. The thin cotton was soaked with sweat and Dean, god, Dean could  _ smell  _ her thick in the air, smothering everything. She smelled like honey, like the sharp tang of whiskey as it burned down his throat. In the corner of his mind, he acknowledged that she smelled like  _ home _ \- and he remembered growing up in the Impala with the scent of her all over him.

She’d  _ always  _ been his Omega.

With his arms shaking in desperate need for her, Dean crawled back up Y/N’s body, kissing her awake from her post-orgasmic doze. She whimpered, the sound a little hoarse from her cries, feeling him pressing insistent and hard against her thigh, silently begging for entrance with his entire being. Wiggling underneath him, Y/N raised her hips, responding to his plea in kind.

She was soaked, and Dean eased into her slowly, groaning at the way she opened for him, sucked him in. His control was thin at best, and he could feel it slipping into nothingness. His eyes rolled back for a brief second, until he heard a tiny squeak of his name, and they snapped open, looking down at focusing on the Omega below him.

The squeak didn’t seem to be from pain, or panic, but more of urgency. Her body was shuddering around him, clenching tightly, and Dean thought she might burn him alive right there. “Tell me,” he requested, nuzzling into her as he halted his penetration.

“Dean…” she whimpered, pouting, “...Alpha, need you.”

It was what he wanted, and Dean sheathed himself fully in one hard stroke, making her curl around him. Her impatience had her hands cupping his face, drawing him in to capture his lips with her own, as her hips rose to meet him on every stroke.

Y/N fell apart first, her nose squashed against his as she mewled against his mouth, unwilling to completely break the kiss. Dean’s teeth scraped against her lips as he struggled to control his reaction to her climax, the way her body tightened around him, the fresh rush of slick between her thighs. His thrusts grew in strength, almost forcing her up the bed as he slammed into her over and over again.

She was begging for his knot in whispered gasps of words that didn’t quite go together, and Dean couldn’t stop the possessive growl as he fully sheathed himself inside her, his knot swelling and locking their bodies together. He didn’t even hear her cry when he buried his teeth in her neck, marking her forever as his. When she reciprocated, he growled, tasting her blood on his tongue.

Dean pulled back first, making her relinquish her hold on him, and for a few long moments, he just looked into her eyes, stroking the damp hair out of her face, his lips curling upwards in a satisfied smile. Y/N stared back, her hands clutching at him, like she was unwilling to let him move too far away from her.

“I love you,” she whispered, tracing her thumb over his full bottom lip. “I always have.”

His smile grew, and he kissed the pad of her thumb where she held it. “This is forever,” Dean promised, lowering his voice. “I’m never letting you go again.”


End file.
